


to each his own magic

by cathedralhearts



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Kidnapping, M/M, Modern Royalty, Rescue Missions, Ridiculousness, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedralhearts/pseuds/cathedralhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no pomp and circumstance, no grand announcements or crazy parades -- nothing like what Sidney’s used to when it comes to wizards arriving at the castle. </p><p>Then again, there aren’t many wizards around quite like this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to each his own magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [o_contrary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_contrary/gifts).



> I had something punny to say about Geno’s hiney being worth the royal treatment, but this fic is indulgent enough as it is.
> 
> This is for o_contrary as a thanks for being a lovely bookend to my days, even though I regularly cuss her out for the feels~ she invokes in me regarding certain captains and their A's. I hope this helps to heal some of your Pens playoff wounds, my dear! Thanks to the amazing hawberries for her art, and to accidentallymelted for the brilliant beta job. Title taken from a bodice ripper on Goodreads. I lost the link so if you know where it comes from, let me know.

 

\--

Sidney’s sitting on a chair in one of the ballrooms when Evgeni Malkin returns from his latest assignment. He feels a tug in his midsection and rubs absent-mindedly at his stomach. He missed lunch for this.

There is no pomp and circumstance, no grand announcements or crazy parades -- nothing like what Sidney’s used to when it comes to wizards arriving at the castle. Then again, there aren’t many wizards around quite like this one.

The Wizard Malkin steps out of thin air in weird circular sunglasses and a polo shirt. His hair has been cropped short since Sidney last saw (Sidney mourns the loss of the glossy, dark brown curls touching his nape, soft and sweetly enticing). The smile that stretches across his face sings to the weird feeling in Sidney’s stomach.

Sidney’s thankful his etiquette training focussed on controlling facial expressions.

“Your Royal Highness,” Malkin says, schooling his smile and dropping into a bow. He’s very tall, taller than Sidney, and even bowing he seems impossible.

“Wizard Malkin,” Sidney says back, returning the bow with one of his own. Malkin shakes his head, unable to repress what’s left of his smile. This is a game they play whenever he returns from one of his assignments.

“I’m always tell you, Geno is fine,” he sighs, all rows of perfect white teeth that speak of braces in the past.

“Just like I always tell you that Sid is fine, too.”

Sidney takes him from the ballroom and heads toward his parents’ chambers, asking Geno how his travel went. They wander along the hallways, fading portraits of long dead relatives watching them as they walk past.

“Same, good to see family. Fix some problems, bit difficult find right portal but got here okay,” Geno says.

Sidney lets the words curl around his spine, settling somewhere deep inside him. He’s enchanted by the wizard, and that’s a problem. It’s been a problem since he was a teenager, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to abate any time soon.

 

* * *

 

His mother notices Sidney’s preoccupation straight away, her mouth pursing as if she’s trying not to smile. His father greets Geno and waves him onto a spare lounge in front of them.

“So, how did it go?” King Troy asks. Sidney’s sitting on the couch next to Geno, his hands in his lap, trying not to will Geno’s sprawling legs closer to his own. He wriggles a little, wondering how long their wizard will stay this time.

Although Geno officially works for the royal family, they lease his services across the globe, and he still has connections back in Russia that he returns to. Sometimes it only takes a day or two-- other times it can take weeks, or months. Last time, Geno went to Sochi to help a family of selkies who were trying to locate a lost pup. He left after Halloween and has only just returned, a week after New Years.

(Sidney’s had to subsist on a memory of Geno handing out candy to children as they took a spin around the city center for Halloween. Geno was dressed as some sort of steampunk enchanter, with a pressed shirt that clung _unfairly_ to his body. Sidney had been a firefighter and happy about it, because the pants provided ample room to hide his distraction.)

“It's okay. Selkies happy, found pup. Human family sad, but they have baby coming so will be okay. Happy to be back,” Geno says, flashing a smile at Sidney and turning to face the king and queen again.

Sidney flushes pink and his mother coughs behind her hand.

“How long will you be here this time?” she asks, and Geno hitches a shoulder.

“Few weeks at least. No jobs, will enjoy time here. Was hard, helping to find selkies. Lots of location magic, long nights… much emotions. Sorry took so long,” he says, apologetic.

“Not an issue. We’ll have you resume tutoring Sidney in magic, then,” Troy says.

Sidney couldn’t be happier. His tutor, whenever Geno isn’t around, is a crotchety old witch named Belinda who raps him on the knuckles when his casting isn’t tight enough, and always has something negative to say about the consistency of his potions. At least Geno’s nicer when he insults Sidney’s admittedly poor abilities when it comes to magic.

Sidney’s summoned for his French tutoring and says goodbye to Geno and his parents. They’re chatting about updating the wards around the grounds, and whether Geno’s intervention is required for the gnome infestation in the gardens.

He sulks his way through Madame Brioux’s session on conjugating the far past, spending longer staring out the windows at the grounds than he does at her exercises. She reprimands him a few times, and he sheepishly tries to focus.

“Is the Wizard Malkin back?” she asks him in French, and he goes beet red.

“Yes,” he manages. She sighs, crossing her arms.

“Then our session is done. Your mind is too full of magic for me to make sense of you. We’ll meet again on Thursday,” she says. Sidney feels bad for wasting her time, but the thought of spending more time with Geno erases any guilt he has left.

He stops by the landing on the second floor and reaches into his pocket for their talisman, ignoring the security detail that follows him everywhere. Today it’s Steven, an ex-marine who’s seen Sidney work this particular spell many times before. Some of his guards are a little wary, their guns and bulk no protection against magic users, so he tries not to cast in front of them. His and Geno’s talisman is a flat steel disc with an eagle stamped on one side, and a maple leaf on the other. They both have one, spelled when they were teenagers to use as locators.

Geno uses the trackers much more than Sidney; mostly to find Sidney whenever he’s lost in the library searching for a new book to devour, or running horribly late for class because he’s entertaining the palace children. It always results in Geno strolling over to the shinny game on the pond, iced over no matter what the weather, or wandering into one of the ballrooms to pluck Sidney from his role as hockey coach or swamp monster. The cries of the Marquess Dupuis’ brood, the palace chef Paulie’s niece and Senator Armstrong’s son follow them if Geno’s feeling particularly determined for Sidney to learn. Otherwise, Geno ends up right next to Sidney at the bottom of a dogpile, or covered in children.

Sidney shakes his head to stir himself from the memories, and whispers the locator spell. He watches as the talisman jumps out his palm, lands on its side and starts rolling down the corridor towards the stairs.

Sidney casts his spells in French, while Geno casts in Russian; something about geographical locations and bloodlines. It’s difficult sometimes, with Geno trying to teach him a new spell in Russian and having to muddle through translations to find the equivalent in French. They make it work, even though his parents have asked several times if he wants to switch tutors. Nothing good comes from taking a shortcut. Besides, he’d never agree to Geno leaving.

He’s breathing a little more heavily than he’d like when he gets to the bottom floor, having chased the talisman down several flights of stairs, Steven jogging effortlessly behind him. His eyes are locked on the talisman as it takes a sharp left and veers towards the kitchens. Sidney rolls his eyes -- of course Geno’s stuffing his face.

If there’s anything the wizard loves as much as magic, small children and animals, it’s food.

 

* * *

 

When Sidney finally finds him, he’s hunched over a sandwich the size of his face, whining at Paulie about there not being enough egg and mayonnaise.

“Stop harassing Paulie,” Sidney says from the doorway, stooping over to pick up the talisman and sliding it back into his pocket. Geno glances over and smiles, warm and full.

“Your Highness,” Geno defers, tilting his head. Sidney rolls his eyes as Steven mutters something into his headset and backs out of the kitchen. Sidney wanders forward and slides into the seat next to Geno, looking expectantly at his food.

“Want some?” Geno asks with a heavy sigh. Sidney nods as Geno cuts a generous slice off and hands it over.

“The prince should have a plate, or at least his _own_ sandwich,” Paulie says, looking distressed. Sidney just hums around his mouthful. Stolen food always tastes nicer, in his opinion. Geno might fight him on it most times, but he always gives in. It’s one of Sidney’s favourite things about him.

“Prince Sid think stolen food nice, more nice than food for him,” Geno explains. Paulie looks no less upset, but returns to his preparations for dinner.

“Prince Sid is right here,” Sidney says around a mouthful of turkey and fluffy bread, but he’s hardly bothered. Paulie makes the best bread -- crusty and warm and _always_ perfect. He’d live off sandwiches forever if he wouldn’t become the size of three houses.

“Prince Sid is always where I am. Best place to be,” Geno stage whispers, elbowing him out of his reverie and returning to his sandwich.

Sidney sinks into the feeling of embarrassed joy, sighing inwardly at how fully and completely he’s managed to fall for the wizard.

He’s too scared to make a move, though. Geno’s type is blonde and sharp and _female_ , and Sidney is none of those things. So, he makes do with what he has -- a few weeks a month with his favourite person, sharing food and casting together, safe and always together.

 

* * *

 

Geno’s muttering under his breath where he’s hunched over a grimoire, looking for the ingredients to a new potion he wants Sidney to help with. Sidney’s ears are pricked-- he can definitely hear a lot of _fucks_ coming from that end of the room, and smiles into his pestle and mortar.

His parents had given Geno his pick of the castle when he was hired, and he chose the far east wing.

“Conservatory, view of lake, very pretty. Basement no good,” Geno had said when he toured the area, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. He was 19 and very young, in King Troy’s opinion, but the Grand Wizard told them over dinner of how Geno took down an entire coven of vampires by himself at the age of 15. He earned the title of _volshebnik_ , meaning something like ‘decorated wizard’, at 17 -- the youngest in history.

Geno keeps correcting Sidney whenever he calls him that, however.

“Not skill enough, I'm still only small wizard. Ceremony term,” Geno chides, a hand pressing along Sidney’s lower back as he moves him aside to get to the poppies.

Geno’s wearing his glasses again; he found them in some market in Egypt and they help him see hidden enchantments or something. Sidney tells Geno they make him look dumb, but if they keep him safe then he’s in favour of them. Privately, Sidney thinks they look awesome -- but Geno’s head will get too big if he tells him so.

“You still reading magic history? Learn spell when I’m away?” Geno asks him, and Sidney groans to himself.

Magical theory and practise is one of his biggest weaknesses, and he hates the fumbling newness of it all, still so awkward and uncomfortable with his casting. At least theory is like anything else he needs to learn; flash cards and regular testing see magical beings, the various wars and treaties sorted into his brain where they belong. Being able to do magic is only part of his princely duties, and not one valued very highly by other royals. His role is mostly ceremonial, and involves a lot of charity work and appearances, and magical ability isn’t ranked high on any royal’s list of priorities. Nobody in Sidney’s family has ever been adept at it -- they’ve always hired wizards to live and work with the families for protection from enemies magical and normal. The British and American Goblin Rebellions against the wizarding communities in 1968 and 1970 saw mandatory lessons in magical history and basic skills testing set up across the globe. Royalty always moved a few decades slower than the general community, so Sidney didn’t start until well into his teenage years.

As a result, his life -- beyond brief flashes of magic and being able to touch the lives of those beneath him -- is so very boring and plain; all lessons and diplomatic trips and fundraisers. The most exciting thing to happen to him in recent memory has to be the siren thing and even then, that somehow included Geno and his magic.

~

Geno’s first official duty had been to save Sidney from a siren, when they were away on holiday together a week after he arrived. Geno tells everyone that story, mostly so he can tease Sidney for not being able to recognise a siren. It’s such a stupid way to almost die. If Geno hadn’t accompanied them to the beach, he’d probably be fish food.

In his defense, she had looked exactly like Georgia, one of the girls from his classical history class, and she’d sung at him with a voice like an _angel_.

“How you not know siren? You stupid?” Geno had yelled at him, as Sidney coughed up what felt like half an ocean of water, his lungs burning and his limbs aching. Geno was similarly wet, his chest heaving, as the siren lay bound and gagged a few feet away. Her arms and legs were held tight against her with sparkling white rope Geno had magicked up from seaweed.

Sidney could only wheeze out, “Didn’t... know,” before flopping back down and taking a long moment to thank God for Evgeni Malkin.

After that, Geno had insisted he take Sidney for magic lessons of all sorts; potion making, spell casting and learning about all the beasts and magical beings. His parents had been so grateful and so enamoured with Geno that they agreed without hesitation. His previous tutor, a nervous lower wizard named Bigglesby, was definitely happy to be relieved of his duties. He had stammered his way through a greeting to Geno when their paths met as he was packing up his office. Geno’s eyes had flashed, his tall frame exuding annoyance.

“You not teach Prince Sidney to know siren?” he snapped at Bigglesby. Sidney had coughed, embarrassed. While he didn’t particularly like Bigglesby, because his teaching style made even the most exciting of magical beings seem boring, he hadn’t expected Geno to launch on the wizard like that. Bigglesby had blustered about there being tons of magical beings, and how they were only a third of the way through Calista Ridgeback’s _Magical Beasts: The Comprehensive Guide to Creatures Great and Small, Vol. 2 -- E to H_.

“Most dumb. Good you leave, Prince Sidney be dead otherwise.”

Geno’s first lesson was to take him to the pond and magic up a siren, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, and walking him through their characteristics and habits, and how best to disarm them if he was ever dragged into the ocean again.

“I'm always make sure I'm around His Highness at beach again,” Geno had chirped, his tongue poking out the edge of his mouth in what Sidney would come to learn was his teasing expression. Sidney had been wildly charmed -- as if he ever stood a chance.

~

“My studying is going fine, stop changing the subject. I think you’re plenty skilled. Besides, the Grand Wizard said you earned that title because of the troll thing,” Sidney protests, waiting as Geno adds a few poppies to the mixture he’s crushing. He nudges at Sidney’s elbow, and he takes up his mortar again.

“Not have title because troll, have title because Gorgon,” Geno says. Sidney snorts.

“Yeah right. Like you defeated a Gorgon,” he says. Gorgons have the power to turn men into stone with one glance into their eyes. They don’t have snakes for hair or look like old hags these days; they’re usually quite beautiful and very, _very_ vengeful.

“I did! Was very hard to not look, I run around like this--” Geno cuts himself off as he slaps a palm over his eyes and starts staggering around the room, knocking into tables and chairs. Sidney laughs and blushes at the outburst. Geno peeks a look at him, grinning obnoxiously.

“You always do that just to make me laugh, you’re horrible,” Sidney chides, and Geno clicks his tongue and comes closer, leaning against Sidney’s side to watch.

“I like you laugh, is best. All of you is best. Now-- pay attention, is tricky to translate so I spell you a bit, you speak Russian for me?” he asks.

Geno’s always very serious when it comes to enchanting anyone, even for small things like healing cuts or translation spells. His skill level is so beyond anything Sidney can comprehend, and he keeps trying to tell Geno it doesn’t matter; he can spell him and they’ll talk about it later, but Geno’s steadfast in obtaining Sidney’s permission for _everything_.

“Okay,” Sidney says, putting down the mortar and brushing his hands off on his pants. Geno nods and moves into his space, his hands coming up to cup Sidney’s cheeks.

He leans in close and Sidney’s eyes flutter closed as Geno’s lips touch his forehead, whispering the spell and sealing it with a dry kiss.

“You understand me?” Geno asks, stepping back.

“Yeah,” Sidney says, his eyes opening slowly.

“Good. Maybe I’ll do this all the time, so we can talk properly,” Geno says, turning back to the grimoire, a flush high in his cheeks. Sidney chews on his bottom lip.

“We do talk properly. All the time, we talk.”

“My English is horrible, don’t act like it isn’t,” Geno says.

“Your English is great, we understand each other fine. Besides, you hate spelling people,” Sidney says with a shrug as Geno returns with the grimoire, holding it up for him to see.

“So, this is a potion for the gnome problem. The gardeners will spray it across the gardens, and it’ll make the gnomes go to sleep. Once that’s done, they can be rounded up and relocated.”

“That’s nice and humane,” Sidney agrees and Geno nods.

“I’ll try not to kill, if I can help it. Everyone deserves nice treatment… even if they don’t deserve it,” Geno says, and hoists the book up over the pestle and begins to chant.

All Sidney’s universe consists of in that moment is Geno’s cologne, mixing with the heady potion and the scent of mint that lingers in the room -- a leftover from the time Sidney and Geno tried to transfigure grass into peppermint.

(It resulted in an explosion and they both stank for weeks, unable to remove the smell from their hair or skin. It still reminds Sidney of them working as a unit, albeit one that ended in disaster.)

The core ingredients for the potion are small, but once mixed with water become potent, and the gardeners arrive with big containers for Sidney to distribute the mixture across.

“Your Highness,” they say, and depart with a bow. Sidney watches them leave, holding the pestle.

“Good team,” he says to Geno, who nods and steps back into his space.

“I need to unspell you,” he says, his voice gruff. Sidney’s chest is tight; he can feel Geno’s body heat coming off him like a furnace. He nods, listing towards him.

Geno repeats the earlier process, muttering and pressing a kiss to Sidney’s forehead, pulling back and out of Sidney’s space.

“Back to normal, yes?” Geno asks, and Sidney sighs.

“You could’ve left that spell on me, if you feel more comfortable like that,” he says.

Geno looks scandalised.

“Cannot spell crown prince permanently! Throw in jail!” he squawks, and Sidney giggles.

“Hardly. My parents think you’re amazing,” he says, and Geno looks surprised.

“Really?”

“Of course they do, Geno. Why else do you think they let you go on trips all the time? They wouldn’t let just anyone do that. They know you don’t just belong with us -- you’re so talented, and your skills should be used to help everyone. You’re special, you always have been. To all of my family,” he says, trailing off at the end, embarrassed.

“Special to… all of family?” Geno croaks, looking shocked. Sidney nods, suddenly filled with courage. It’s probably a mixture of pining for years, constantly watching Geno leave and not knowing where he’s going, or if he’ll even come back alive. He finds he’s sick of watching.

Sidney steps into Geno’s space, his fingers reaching to wrap around Geno’s wrists.

“Special to me,” Sidney says softly. Geno swallows, the click audible in the quiet of the room, the early afternoon sunshine streaming through every window.

It seems like a dream when Geno inclines his head and Sidney pulls himself up to meet him halfway, their lips sliding together almost too easily for this to be the first time. Sidney opens his mouth and Geno does the same, his tongue coming in to stroke at Sidney’s, making him moan. Geno’s arms wrap around Sidney, one on his waist and one around his shoulders, and Sidney sinks into the strength and warmth, his own circling Geno’s waist. It feels like coming home and he cedes control for a beat or two, giving them both what they _need_. 

The moment is broken when Geno’s familiar comes trotting in, clearing his throat loudly.

“Zhenya… Your Highness,” Jeffrey reprimands from his place by the doorway, sitting on his haunches. Sidney pulls back, still in Geno’s arms, and looks around him. Jeffrey, a hundred pound plus Dogue de Bordeaux, is a beast of an animal with the intelligence of a genius.

“Jeffrey,” Geno glowers but Jeffrey looks so unimpressed that Geno lets go of Sidney, stepping back a little to reinsert space. Sidney’s left craving the feel of his soft skin and the heat that flows beneath it.

“We have a job. The Swedish government is having problems with a Nökken. He’s drowned six women and their casters can’t defeat him. The King and Queen have already been informed,” Jeffrey says dryly. Sidney’s heart sinks.

“But I just got back,” Geno starts. Jeffrey whuffles, completely unsympathetic.

“The Swedes are _insistent_ , Zhenya, and the Grand Wizard is eager for us to go,” he says, communicating something to Geno through his gaze. Geno sighs, sagging a little.

“Okay. I’m pack soon,” Geno says. Jeffrey stands and trots out, leaving them alone.

“Your Highness, I--” Geno starts, taking another step back. Sidney reaches out to grab at his shirt.

“Don’t call me that. I’m Sid, to you-- just Sid,” he says, a little desperate. Geno looks wrecked.

“Sid,” he tries, but Sidney moves in and kisses him again, addicted to the taste and the way it makes him feel. He knows Geno has to leave, but not just yet. Not quite yet.

Geno gives in straight away, wrapping Sidney back up in his arms, and his head becomes a fuzz of delirious happiness.

 

* * *

 

Sidney spends the week that Geno’s away in Sweden attending two hospital wing openings and trying not to sulk.

He has a charity dinner on Saturday, and he’s trying desperately to act interested in the story that the minister of public health is telling him about fly fishing when the lights go out.

A woman shrieks in the distance, and Sidney only has time to take one breath before he feels someone behind him, strong arms wrapping around his chest and mouth.

“If you do or say anything, I’ll kill you,” the voice rasps in his ear and he freezes. All his training on being kidnapped and hostage situations say just do whatever the captor wants; he’s never been happier to have paid attention than now. For the most part, the people are happy with their king, never having been given reason to be otherwise -- the city is thriving, the factories and the land produce well, and the economy is stable and has been for years. Sidney can’t place the accent, and starts paying as much attention to his captor as he can.

The lights come back on, blinding everyone for a few seconds. Sidney blinks, trying to clear the daze from his eyes, everything slowly coming back into focus. The room still looks the same, except for a bunch of people interspersed throughout, black cloaks obscuring their faces and most of their bodies. One of them takes the microphone from the stage and comes to stand by Sidney and the goon holding him.

“Tell the Wizard Malkin he has until two pm tomorrow to meet our demands. If he doesn’t, we’ll mail him a piece of Prince Sidney every hour until there’s nothing left.”

The leader drops the microphone and does the same trick as Geno -- disappears into thin air, like stepping behind an invisible corner. Sidney’s dragged to his feet and toward the same spot. It’s unexpected; he thought they’d be after him because he’s royalty, not because of any link with Geno. Regardless, whoever these people are want him because of Geno, and what he means to Geno. It’s not exactly a secret Geno works for their family and has for years, and they probably act inappropriately close whenever they’re out in public together.

He starts to struggle, trying to break free and escape before it’s too late, but one of the other cloaked people appears in front of him.

The last thing he sees is a fist coming straight for his face. _Geno’s going to be so pissed_ , he has time to think, before… nothing.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up, he’s tied to a chair in a grimy basement somewhere. His temple aches from when he was knocked out, and he feels groggy and woozy.

“Where… where’m I?” he croaks, spotting a young man sitting at the edge of the room, reading a comic.

“You’re safe enough. Just hope the Wizard Malkin values you in one piece,” the guy retorts, before closing his comic, standing up and banging on the door. Sidney takes a moment to wonder what it was that made them target him -- was it anything in particular Geno had said or done in public? His mind refuses to respond properly, everything sluggish, and he groans and rubs his face. The door opens and the guy takes a tray of food from another hooded figure -- some bread, a watery soup and a bottle of water.

“Eat up. One meal a day around here,” the guy says, only untying Sidney’s arms from the chair and placing the tray on the floor next to him. He walks out, shutting the door without a backwards glance, leaving Sidney’s feet still bound.

Sidney reaches for his feet, irritated. They must’ve spelled him while he was out because no matter how hard he tries to shake it off, it feels like he’s wading through molasses, everything thick and delayed. His fingers slide clumsily across the knots on his ankles, and he gives up and drags the tray over awkwardly, drinking the water and eating the bread.

He takes a sip of the soup and gags-- it’s cold and tastes like old socks, and pushes it away in disgust. He tries again at the binding on his ankles, and strains to remember a spell Geno taught him about untying knots.

They’d been out sailing and Sidney was sun drunk and maybe a little drunk on wine too, and had trouble fixing their sails. It was the first time his parents had let him out alone, with no bodyguards -- their trust in Geno to keep Sidney safe complete at that point. Geno, after he’d finished laughing himself stupid at Jeffrey falling off the boat, took Sidney aside and taught him the spell. Sidney’s cheeks, already pink from the sun, had gone bright red at the proximity of the wizard. It had felt like the air was crackling around him, Geno’s hands huge and safe around Sidney’s as he walked him through the hand motions to accompany the spell.

Sidney’s knots weren’t nearly as good as Geno’s, but for a first effort -- and considering the distraction -- it was good enough.

His head aches now trying to remember, the spell slipping around the edges of his mind.

“For fuck’s sake!” he explodes, groaning and sinking into the chair. He feels so despondent. Geno’s going to be livid when he hears Sidney’s been kidnapped, and that scares him more than he’d like to admit. Geno is a force when he’s focused; adding rage to that only enhances his natural skill, makes him more reckless and unpredictable. Sidney knows for them to all escape this in one piece, Geno needs to be balanced and professional. The second these people took Sidney, they knew it’d throw Geno off, making him irrational and crazy. Whoever they are, they must know Geno pretty well.

As he slumps down in the chair, the skin on his ankles chafing from the rope, there’s a sound of something hitting the floor. He pulls his hands from his face and peers around.

There, lying on the floor, is his talisman.

“Oh my god,” he whispers and reaches down, fingers scrabbling against the cobbled floor. He squints against the spell -- it’s definitely his talisman, not their currency. The goons must’ve mistaken it for money when they tied him up.

He’s trying to figure out the best way to escape, knowing the talisman is his best way to get free, and comes up blank.

“C’mon, Sid, _think_. What can I do?” he hisses to himself, smacking his cheeks to try and wake himself up. It works enough, in that an idea finally pops into his head. He remembers the spell to heat things having come in handy when he’d been lost in books in the library and his tea gone cold, and wonders if it’d work on the talisman.

He bends down and holds it to the rope, the French fumbling off his tongue a few times before he lands it, sagging in relief as the talisman begins to heat between his fingers. Soon enough it’s too hot to hold and he tucks it against the rope, smirking as he hears the bindings begin to fizzle and snap.

They fall off his ankles and he cancels the spell, watching the red hot edges of his talisman fade back to the dull silver his fingers have rubbed it to, stretching out his legs and struggling to his feet.

It’s definitely a dungeon somewhere, gloomy with only a tiny window on the far back wall to let in weak sunlight.

“How am I supposed to rescue myself?” he wonders out loud, dragging the chair over to the window. He shakes his head again, but it's useless against the effects of the spell. He climbs unsteadily on the chair -- his nose just clears the bottom cut of the window, and all he can see is countryside.

“Your Highness?” a voice comes from behind him, and Sidney squeaks and almost falls off the chair.

The spell must affect his sanity as well, because he swears he can see Jeffrey sitting there, looking supremely unimpressed.

“Jeffrey?” Sidney asks, getting down and walking over to squat in front of him. He reaches out a hand, frowning as it passes straight through Jeffrey.

“I’m astrally projecting. Zhenya just activated the tracking spell on your talisman -- see?” he says, pointing a paw to the talisman, left lying on the ground near the chair.

It’s glowing blue, which is what it does whenever the spell is working.

“It’s blue,” Sidney says dumbly. Jeffrey whuffles.

“Your Highness, are you safe?” he asks, and Sidney shrugs.

“They’ve spelled me, I think. Everything’s fuzzy. I got free, though! Geno’s magic lessons are paying off,” he says happily, pointing at the ropes charred by his spell.

“Zhenya will be elated,” Jeffrey says, standing up and walking around the room.

“There’s no way for you to escape?” he asks. Sidney shrugs.

“There’s only a window, and I barely clear it. I’ve only been here a little bit, when I woke up there was a boy. He gave me food and left. I don’t know the schedule of the guards or anything.” It seems hopeless when Sidney vocalises his situation, and he sits back down on the chair, any happiness at being partially free fading.

“Is Geno coming for me? I really… I don’t know if I can…” he tries. Jeffrey rests his head on Sidney’s knee, and it almost startles him into clarity.

“He’s coming for you, Your Highness. He’s furious and he’s scared, but he’s coming. The tracking spell is working and he knows where you are. Stay strong.”

“I’ll try. Please, hurry,” he whispers, and watches as Jeffrey fades into nothingness.

 

* * *

 

Sidney’s lying on the floor of the dungeon when the doors open again and the boy with the comic is back.

“Get up, Prince Sidney. Our leader demands a meeting,” he snaps. Sidney gets up, his head spinning, and is dragged out of the dungeons and down a dark corridor.

There’s an open room at the end, filled with all sorts of spell-making equipment -- desks crammed against each other, covered with burning herbs and bubbling cauldrons giving off horrific smells. There’s ropes and chains along the walls, animals of all sorts caged along them, shrieking and shaking in captivity. A few cloaked figures are bent over their work, muttering spells in a language Sidney can’t recognise, familiars winding around their legs or perched on their shoulders. Whoever these people are, they’re skilled in magic. The talisman throbs in Sidney’s pocket, and it gives him courage. Geno’s coming for him.

There’s a cloaked figure sitting in a large chair to the side, and Sidney guesses this must be the ringleader.

“Prince Sidney,” the cloaked figure says. The voice is higher than he expected.

“Uh-- yes?” he asks, startled. The cloak falls back to reveal a beautiful woman, with purple eyes and white-blonde hair. She looks vaguely familiar, and it niggles at him. _Why do I know her face?_

“I can see you recognise me. Zhenya’s obviously showed you a picture,” she says. Her accent is Russian, like Geno’s, but the spell is working against his head, everything like mud. She waves a hand, and he can’t help but sigh as the murkiness clears from his mind. It comes to him suddenly, her face and Geno’s pressed together in a picture he’d found one afternoon, searching through one of Geno’s desks to find a grimoire. On the back had been the simple title of “Alina, 2002 - Moscow” and Sidney had been wildly jealous at the time. It’d wrangled with his guilt at snooping through Geno’s belongings, causing him to act more bizarrely than usual when Geno returned from his mission to New York. He’d eventually forgotten about it, focussed on the happiness of Geno being back and invested in _him_ , but apparently this girl had been more to Geno than Sidney had ever thought.

“Alina,” he whispers as it comes to him, and she throws her head back and laughs.

“Yes, yes. Your Zhenya and I were sweethearts, for a time -- but he never liked my magic. It was too dark. He was always so focussed on saving hopeless cases, like you.”

Sidney bristles.

“I’m not hopeless!”

Her legs are long and smooth when she crosses them underneath her robes, falling open to reveal them as she laughs at him. Sidney swallows, wondering if she’d ever had Geno like Sidney wanted to -- ever saw how he looked when he woke up in the morning, how his lips had felt trailing up her skin. He’s furiously jealous, all of a sudden.

“Why me? Surely there are other people you could kidnap that’re more important to him,” Sidney says hotly. Alina rolls her eyes.

“I know Zhenya well enough -- he’s been mooning over you for years. Every picture of you two together, he’s looking at you like a sap in love. It wasn’t hard to find a target he’d be motivated by. By the looks of it, you feel exactly the same,” she says, her smile curving up at the edges.

“You don’t know anything about what we have,” Sidney says, drawing himself up. He’s scared out of his mind, but he’ll be damned if he shows her. He’ll do whatever he can to stall her from hurting him until Geno arrives to figure this out.

“I can imagine. He kisses you, tells you he wants you, tells you you’re all he needs but he keeps leaving you for his trips, keeps disappearing, doesn’t tell you thinks… the discontent fosters, it breeds. Whatever you think you have, it won’t last. Besides, you’re the crown prince. How do you think your people will take it when you come out as a homosexual, and involved with the _palace wizard_ no less?”

Sidney blanches, at a loss for words, and she laughs.

“Oh, Prince Sidney… what a child you are. I’m sure Zhenya’s done a real number on you, making you think you’re so special, and what you have will last. He’ll always pick the magic over you. I pity you, you stupid bo--”

She’s cut off when a huge explosion rocks the room, sending plaster and debris tumbling from the ceiling. Sidney ducks, his hands flying over his head, and his heart is thumping against his chest. _Geno’s here._

“Zhenya’s here-- quick, to the--” Alina screams, but the door flies off the hinges and Geno strides in, the air crackling around him with magic and rage. It’s the kind of magic Sidney hasn’t felt in a long time, scary and overwhelming with its anger.

Geno yells something at Alina in Russian, and Jeffrey comes bounding in… but he isn’t Jeffrey, not in the form Sidney’s used to. It’s like he’s supersized, and he has talons and _wings_. He’s almost as large as Geno, and looks just as pissed off.

“Sidney!” Jeffrey barks, running over and picking him up. Sidney’s shaken and the goons are headed towards them as Alina starts fighting with Geno in the background, tossing spells and insults at each other as they go. They ricochet off the ceiling and walls, exploding and taking huge chunks with them, as the animals scream and tables explode, spraying chunks and splashing their contents everywhere.

“We need to go!” Sidney yells at Jeffrey over the din, who nods and turns back to breathe fire at one of the goons. Jeffrey grabs Sidney and throws him on his back, galloping past Alina and Geno as they continue to fight, ducking behind chairs and half-destroyed tables.

“Get him-- don’t let the prince escape!” Alina yells after them, and Sidney clings as Jeffrey heads up the stairs and through another dingy corridor, a huge hole in the wall where they’d obviously entered shining up ahead.

“Sidney, I need you to listen to me. When we get outside, there’s more men. We’ve called the police and magic forces for back up, but it’ll be a while before they get here. I need you to hide somewhere safe, away from the fighting. I can’t protect you while I’m trying to keep her henchmen at bay,” he says, his voice as measured as it can be. It serves to calm Sidney a little as he clings tighter and nods, fighting the fear that’s trying to paralyse him.

“I can do this, Jeffrey,” he says, steeling himself.

“That’s my boy,” Jeffrey says, and they burst outside. Sure enough, there’s a cluster of henchmen waiting, with spells at the ready.

“Run, Sidney!” Jeffrey yells as Sidney scrambles down, and he watches as Jeffrey charges towards them, more fire spilling from his mouth as he takes to the air, huge wings beating around him.

Sidney barely has time to dive behind a boulder nearby when a spell blasts overhead, three of the henchmen coming for him.

 _I can do this,_ he repeats to himself, before he rolls up his sleeves and stands up. Geno had taught him some counterspells in the event he got into a duel. Now that his head is clear and adrenaline is pumping through his veins, Jeffrey fighting in front of him and Geno somewhere deep inside the dungeon behind, he knows he _can_ do this. Geno has always had faith in him, worked hard with him to get to this point, and he wants to reward Geno’s investment. He wants to prove to everyone, especially Alina, that he’s not hopeless.

He throws up a shield to block one goon, knocking him out in the process. He grabs a thick, dead tree branch off the floor, spelling it to harden like a rock before clubbing another who tries to grab him.

“Look at that, Prince Sidney knows a bit of magic!” a third guy taunts, and Sidney runs towards him, repeating the heat spell on the branch, sparring with the guy until the branch hits his midsection. The guy yelps at the heat and Sidney shoves it at him, scorching him. He falls on the ground and Sidney cancels out the spell, jumping on him and punching him out. He barely knows what he’s doing, self-defense classes mandatory since he was a kid, but with the action around him, it feels like an out-of-body experience.

As he struggles to his feet, he hears Jeffrey roar and looks over -- two guys have managed to climb on top of him. Sidney doesn’t even think, just runs straight for Jeffrey and springs up, kicking one guy off and punching the other, sending him flying. Jeffrey pounces on them, knocking them out when they’re down, breathing hard underneath Sidney. The rest of the henchmen are smouldering or dead, and Sidney’s chest is heaving as he collapses against Jeffrey.

“Sidney, are you okay? I told you to hide!” Jeffrey chides, looking at his back. Sidney’s shaking, and presses his face against Jeffrey’s spine, relishing the feel of his fur and the power that thrums beneath it.

“I wanted to help,” is all he mumbles.

“Jeffrey?” Geno’s voice comes floating across the field. Sidney struggles upward to see Geno staggering outside, clutching his arm and bleeding freely from a cut on his cheek.

“Geno!” Sidney yells, awkwardly sliding off around Jeffrey’s wings and running to him. His legs feel like jelly but the relief -- Geno’s _here_ and he’s _alive_ \-- make everything else fall away.

“You’re hurt,” he says as he gets closer, and Geno’s face is so sad.

“Sid, I… is all my fault, Alina…” he starts, and Sidney shakes his head.

“It’s okay, Geno. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know this was coming, and I’m fine.”

“Made a lot of enemies, not safe for you. Maybe I should…” Geno trails off, and _fuck that_.

Sidney pulls him down, a hand wrapped around his neck, and kisses him as hard as he can. He was so scared, he got into his first real magic fight, and Geno’s whole and _there_ in front of him. He wants them to rescue each other for the rest of their lives.

“Don’t even start that shit, Geno. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to teach me more magic so I can defend myself better and we’re gonna… we’re gonna do this. I don’t care. Everyone’s got baggage.”

“Is not baggage, Sid, is dangerous--” Geno tries, but Sidney kisses him again and again, until Geno stops trying to object.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Sidney whispers against his mouth. Geno nods, letting Sidney take his hand and lead him to Jeffrey.

 

* * *

 

His mother rushes out with his father not far behind as soon as Jeffrey lands in the front yard. There’s people _everywhere_ and Sidney wonders how they must look, bloody and bruised from their battle.

“Oh, Sidney, you’re safe!” Queen Trina wails, falling on him. He’s exhausted and starving and sore, and all he wants is Paulie to make him the biggest dinner ever, a hot bath and his bed. Preferably with Geno waiting under his covers.

“Mom, I’m okay,” he says as his father wraps them up in a hug.

“Wizard Malkin, how can we ever repay you?” King Troy asks, letting go of Sidney and turning to Geno. Geno's attempting to shove Jeffrey off his face, who’s lapping up all the dried blood.

“Your Majesty, is all my fault. Did not take care of Sid, old enemy, she--” Geno croaks, and King Troy moves closer and puts his hands on Geno’s shoulders.

“Wizard Malkin-- _Geno_. We knew that hiring a wizard would come with risks. But you found our son and you brought him back to us. You’re teaching him and he’s important to you, and that’s all we can ask for. We’d feel less safe if you weren’t around.”

Geno crumbles under his gaze, his eyes dropping to the ground.

“Okay,” Geno says thickly, and Sidney reaches for him.

“I just… I want food and a bath and my bed. We can talk to the police and magic forces tomorrow, surely?” Sidney begs. His mother sniffles and nods, his father putting an arm around her.

*

“Who is it?” Sidney calls out, one leg propped on his bed.

Paulie had made him the biggest sandwich ever, and the bath had felt like a song against his skin. He pulled on his sleep tee and boxers after the bath, after spending far too long in grimy clothes, padding quietly into his chambers and wondering what he wanted next. Geno had disappeared to his wing and shut his door soon after the king and queen dismissed them, which frustrated Sidney to no end. Sidney had been shadowed by secret service and his own mother until he escaped to his chambers, and there’s still agents posted outside the doors and patrolling the grounds and balcony, interspersed with casters.

Last Sidney had heard, the police had taken Alina and her men into custody and charged her with treason, attempted murder and kidnapping. The Grand Wizard had come from Russia to provide testimony about her and reinforce the spells keeping her in captivity. It made Sidney feel more relaxed, anyway, coupled with Geno wandering somewhere around the grounds.

“It’s your mother,” Queen Trina’s voice floats through the thick wood. Sidney frowns and pads to the door, opening it and stepping aside to let her in.

She sits on his bed and pats the space next to her, and he sighs and sits down.

“I’ll leave you alone after this, I just wanted to come talk for a little bit,” she says, pulling him to lie across her lap, stroking her fingers through his hair. It’s a well-worn tactic of hers, whenever he wants to discuss something she knows will upset him, she reverts to childhood throwbacks. He’s a sucker for hands in his hair, and his mother knows it.

“About what?” he asks, and she tugs a little so he falls silent.

“Something happened between you and the Wizard Malkin, didn’t it?” she asks. Sidney stiffens.

“I’m not here to scold you. It’s not hard to see how much he cares for you, and how protective he is of you. As much as I’d like a daughter-in-law and grandbabies one day, you’ve always walked to a different tune. Your father and I made our peace with that the second we saw how you reacted when we hired him.”

“Grandbabies aren’t impossible,” Sidney chooses to say, and his mother laughs.

“No, they aren’t impossible.”

“Was I… was it really that obvious?” he asks, and she sighs and strokes his hair.

“Your father didn’t notice until the ghost at your school. He said the way you sounded when you said everything would be okay now that the Wizard Malkin was there… it was more than just being reassured of his skill. That the wizard _himself_ was what made you feel safe.”

Her voice is fond and Sidney’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

It’s why he knew that Geno would be furious about Alina, and why he was scared about Geno’s abilities when he was enraged. In his final year of school there had been a ghost haunting the third floor that turned violent. Tortured from centuries having to relive her death, she had started harming the students. Sidney had been thrown across the room and Geno, who was on a mission in Thailand, had arrived minutes after Sidney rang him from the hospital wing and dispatched her soul to the afterlife.

His tall frame had been brimming with anger, the air sparking around him as he cast his spell and salted her remains -- a hairbrush kept on display in the main foyer. He’d then healed Sidney’s ribs, apologising that he wasn’t able to come sooner, his brown eyes full of sadness. His overprotective nature had kicked into overdrive since, as had Sidney’s completely inappropriate crush that was apparently mutual.

“And you?” Sidney asks, wondering when his mother had realised.

“I’m a little more observant,” she says, sounding amused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I noticed how you changed the second the Wizard Malkin stepped into our midst. How much more alive you were, openly willing to talk to him and laughing at his jokes… he’s a sweet man, Sidney, like you are. Your father and I are happy if you are, and God knows he can protect you better than we can,” she says.

“We kissed, but he had to go to Sweden, so I don’t really know where we stand. Maybe he doesn’t want a prince for a partner,” he trails off, biting his lip. It’s not the first time it’s occurred to him, nor will it be the last. A royal for a partner, especially for a wizard, cannot be the best of matches. The level of security, of public scrutiny and loss of privacy aren’t the most redeeming of qualities that Sidney can offer.

“Oh, Sidney…” his mother trails off, and Sidney sits up and crawls under his covers.

“We’ll figure it out, Mom. I think I want to sleep for now,” he says, and she leans in to kiss his head.

“I’m glad you’re okay, baby. Sleep well,” she whispers and turns off his lights.

 

*

 

When Sidney wakes up the next morning, Geno’s sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, Jeffrey sleeping at his feet.

“Geno?” he struggles upwards, wincing as his muscles whine at him. Geno startles, and Sidney can’t tamp down the smile that spreads across his face.

“Morning, Si-- uhm, Your Highness,” Geno says.

“ _Sid_ ,” Sidney scolds, and Geno stands up and comes to sit on the edge of his bed. Sidney crawls across the covers and wraps an arm around Geno’s shoulder, looking unhappily at the cut on his face.

“I wish I knew healer magic,” he sighs, tracing a finger underneath the swollen, bruised skin.

“Is okay. Scars sexy, no?” Geno jokes, and Sidney licks his lips.

“I don’t think I could keep my hands off you if you got any sexier,” he says, feeling stupid as soon as he says it. Judging by the way Geno goes bright red and digs his fingers into the bedspread, he apparently doesn’t sound as dumb as he thinks.

“ _Sid_ ,” Geno huffs and Sidney moves closer, his knees pressing against Geno’s thigh, leaning in to brush a kiss against his cheek.

“I’m really happy,” Sidney says, soft and truthful. Geno takes a shuddering breath and moves his hand to lace in Sidney’s.

“If we do this… I can’t… no take backs. We together forever.”

“Do wizards imprint like wolves or something?” Sidney asks. Geno scoffs and pushes Sidney backwards into the bed.

“No, silly. No imprint. I just… I like you very long time. Not strong enough to stay if we break up.”

Sidney’s knees bracket Geno’s thighs as he pulls him on top, kissing him deep and wet, relishing Geno’s groans.

“You’re never going to leave, so don’t even think about it.”

Geno laughs against his mouth and Sidney pulls back, his lips slick from Geno.

“Good thing I brave enough to put up with royal pain in ass,” he chirps, and Sidney rolls his eyes, his fingers running along Geno’s spine, feeling the muscles stir beneath the surface.

“Good thing I’m brave enough to put up with a wizard,” Sidney fires back. He regrets it instantly, wondering if it's too soon, but Geno’s eyes crinkle as he lowers himself back down onto Sidney.

Geno moans into his mouth and pulls back a little, his lips puffy and red. Sidney feels warmth building inside -- _he_ did that.

“Sid, uhm. Magic sometime, ah. Spill?” Geno starts, as Sidney leans up and licks a path along his neck, wanting to taste more. His fingers move to Geno’s front, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out from his jeans. His mind fleets back to Alina, and how jealous he’d been thinking about her -- about what she got to experience, maybe, of Geno. He pushes it aside, more focussed on getting Geno’s long planes of skin bare for him to spare any more thoughts about Geno’s past. Geno’s here now, and with him. That’s all that matters.

“Spill?” Sidney asks, as Geno sits up and shrugs off his cardigan, his polo shirt following it to puddle on Sidney’s floor. Geno gets off the bed and lets his jeans follow, and Sidney pulls off his sleep tee and pajama pants, tugging at the elastic on Geno’s briefs to get him back. He wants that warmth against him, a reminder that he gets to have this.

“Yes, ah. Come out? Concentrate, not control when… busy,” Geno struggles, as Sidney pushes him on his back and climbs on top of him, his fingers running a line down Geno’s chest to his underwear.

“So you’re saying, if I make you come, you might do some magic? Fireworks? Explosions?” Sidney asks, biting down on his lip as he tugs at the edge of Geno’s boxers, exposing a hip. He bends down and sucks on it, moving to the other hip, his nose brushing Geno’s swelling bulge in the middle.

“Sid, fuck--” Geno gasps out, and Sidney grins and climbs off, tugging Geno’s underwear down and off, doing the same and straddling him again. He reaches over for the drawer and inside for the lube. He doesn’t usually do much with lube, since he’s not cut and he can never seem to get his fingers to hit the right angles inside him, but the way Geno’s panting makes him think that maybe Geno might be the one to change that.

“What do you want, Geno?” he asks, bending down to kiss him, smiling as Geno tries to follow him and whines.

“Fuck,” Geno gurgles and Sidney giggles.

“I’m still kind of sore. Maybe just hands… mouth?” he asks, licking his lips. Geno throws his head back and curses.

“Hands it is,” Sidney says, squirting the lube into his palm and slicking them both up. Geno thrusts up against his hand and Sidney bends over, sealing their lips together and swallowing down every moan Geno gives him.

Sidney comes first, giving in when Geno’s arms wrap around him and he thrusts just right in Sidney’s hands, bringing their cockheads together in a way that makes his eyes cross. Everything’s wet and perfect, and he shudders his way through it when he comes, flopping down onto Geno and pressing his face into Geno’s neck as he paints Geno's stomach. Geno’s hips are still moving, trying to get enough friction so Sidney shimmies down the bed, taking Geno in hand and licking up his cock, smirking as Geno starts swearing again.

It doesn’t take long until Geno’s spilling into his mouth, a hand tangled in Sidney’s hair and he closes his eyes and swallows it down, wanting everything.

“Sid,” Geno says as Sidney moves back up the bed, flopping down next to him.

“That was good?” Sidney asks.

“I'm dead. Ask later,” Geno says, pressing a kiss against Sidney’s temple. Sidney smiles, wide and happy, and they fall silent for a while, catching their breath. They’re settling down to nap the exertion off, definitely deserved after yesterday, when Sidney frowns -- he can hear shouting in the background.

“What _is_ that?” he asks, sitting up and making his way over to the windows. He pulls the blinds back and gasps, shoving the window open and leaning out.

“What?” Geno calls from the bed, but Sidney has no words to describe what he’s seeing.

“Uhm.”

Geno hauls himself out and makes his way over, scratching at his stomach and yawning. He stops behind Sidney, wrapping an arm around his waist and dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

“What big pro-- oh _shit_.”

Across the gardens, every topiary their grounds staff have painstakingly created have been magicked alive and are running amuck. There’s a giraffe and a rhino playing catch with a penguin, and the centerpiece of their grounds, a massive dragon, is sunning itself on the roof of one of the greenhouses, smoke curling from its nostrils. Sidney can see his parents standing on their own balcony, looking dumbstruck.

“Find the Wizard Malkin!” someone yells, as more penguins waddle toward the back doors. Sidney can’t help but burst into laughter as he turns to look at Geno, who has gone bright pink and is hurrying for his clothes.

“Told Sid, magic escape!” he groans, reaching for his pants as he shucks on his shirt.

“Oh, Geno,” Sidney says.

“What?” Geno asks, his tongue between his teeth as he steps into his shoes and clicks his fingers at the cardigan, lying crumpled on the floor. It leaps into his hand, flattening out the creases and he pulls it on.

“Nothing. Go save the grounds staff,” Sidney says, pulling on his underwear.

There’s frantic knocking at the door, and they both look at it.

“Y-Your Highness, do you know where the Wizard Malkin is? We seem to, ah, have a problem with the topiaries!” the voice floats through the door.

Sidney bursts into giggles again as Geno yells, “On my way!” and turns back to Sidney.

“Continue when I’m back, okay?”

Sidney nods and leans up to rubs his nose against Geno’s jawline, kissing it.

“Come back soon. Who knows what trouble I’ll get into without you around?”

“All sorts trouble. _Stay_.” With that, Geno steps into nothingness -- his favourite trick -- and Sidney flops back into bed and waits for him, unable to tamp down on his ridiculous grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Please give me an excuse to write a sequel to this.


End file.
